


We’re Watching A Television With No Sound

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Kiss cam, M/M, that's it this is a kiss cam mini fic i'm sorry i haven't posted anything in a month guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry laughs too, about to make a comment, but then Niall is suddenly nudging him on the arm, saying something excitedly that Harry doesn’t quite catch. He turns to his best mate, frowning, but the blond only points up at the screen with a shit-eating grin on his face. Harry’s frown deepens.</p><p>Then he looks up, and. Oh. That’s him on the screen.</p><p>Specifically, him and Louis on the screen.</p><p> </p><p>(harry and louis are strangers who meet at a basketball game neither of them wanted to attend. they kiss on camera.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We’re Watching A Television With No Sound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamyletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamyletters/gifts).



> this fic is largely inspired by [this](http://dreamyletters.tumblr.com/post/86672079584/haveagoodshowtonightbabycakes-it-looks-like). also, i’ve done a bit of research and i think kiss cam only happens in us and canada? but for the sake of this fic let’s just all pretend that it’s also a thing in uk okay. i love you guys.
> 
> title from 'heart out' by the 1975.

“Niall, do I really have to be here?” Harry whines for what is probably the fifteenth time that night.

Niall just rolls his eyes.

They’re at a basketball game of all things, and Harry does not want to be here at all. He crosses his arms against his chest, stomping as he follows Niall further into the row of seats, and he knows that he’s acting a bit childish but damn it, he was just forced to come here okay. Like, sure, basketball is probably a great sport for most people, but Harry’s just not most people. He can’t see what’s so exciting about fighting over a ball and running back and forth, trying to shoot said ball into a net. It’s too loud for him, and also a bit violent sometimes. There’s a reason he plays golf, okay.

But _no_ , Niall just had to drag him out of his bed and force him to go to this apparently important basketball match—Harry doesn’t even know who’s playing against who—because “Harry, you need to get out there more, mate. You’re wasting your precious youth away locked up in your room,” nevermind the fact that Harry had been doing coursework.

So now here he is, reluctantly taking a seat beside Niall, who is holding an armful of snacks that can probably feed five hungry lads on a movie night. He wrinkles his nose, not really sure where Niall gets the appetite to eat this much when they just had dinner not even an hour ago.

Probably an Irish thing, or something.

Okay, fuck, that was a bit racist.

Niall catches him looking and immediately tightens his arms around his food, as though Harry is going to steal some from him, which is just ridiculous really. “You can’t have any,” he says, glaring.

Harry frowns in response, crossing his arms against his chest and slumping back against his seat. “I’m not even asking for any.”

“Good,” Niall says, “because I’m not gonna share.” And then he’s happily ripping a bag of potato chips open.

Harry glares at the court below them. “You’re the one who dragged me out here. The least you can do is give me something to entertain myself with.”

“Mate,” Niall begins saying, throwing a chip into his mouth, “the only entertainment you’ll need to see is the game. C’mon, basketball is exciting!”

“Golf,” Harry argues, “golf is exciting.”

Niall snorts at that, throwing more chips into his mouth. He’s chewing when he says, “Golf is an old man’s sport. It’s lame.” He looks at Harry with his brows creased in the middle. “Why do you even play golf? You’re twenty years old, not fifty.”

Harry whacks Niall across the head. “Shut up, golf is exciting!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

“Fine then.” Niall gets a determined yet also slightly manic look in his eyes, and Harry can tell that he’s just come up with another one of his ideas that usually don’t end well for Harry. “We’re gonna ask other people which sport they prefer. Whoever loses has to pay for next month’s rent.” He then proceeds to stick his hand out towards Harry.

Harry shakes his head quickly. “No way.”

“Plus,” Niall adds, “I won’t force you to go out of the flat anymore.”

Harry considers for all of two seconds before he’s shaking his head again.

“I won’t barge into your room while you’re doing your coursework.”

And okay, fine. Harry reluctantly accepts, shaking Niall’s hand once. The blond looks highly pleased at that, always out to make things as hard for Harry as possible, and Harry—not for the first time—wonders why they’re best friends in the first place.

It’s probably the irresistible Irish charm.

 

“Excuse me, are these seats taken?” someone suddenly asks, and Harry looks up.

A young man is standing there, wearing a tank top that shows off impressive-looking biceps. Harry blinks for a moment, slightly confused, before realizing that the question is directed at him. “Um, no,” he says, waving a hand lamely at the seats beside him. “They’re all yours, mate.”

The man smiles. “Thanks, mate. I’m Liam, by the way.”

“I’m Harry,” he introduces himself, since it’s the polite thing to do, before pointing at Niall who’s already grinning at Liam, always enthusiastic to meet new people, “and this is my friend, Niall.”

Liam nods at them politely, before he’s turning and waving at who Harry assumes are his friends.

Harry turns to face Niall again, who is now back to leisurely eating his chips. He rolls his eyes before snatching the plastic bag away from the blond, who immediately protests.

“Oi! Not cool, mate. Give ‘em back.”

Harry playfully sticks his tongue out, clutching the bag of chips to his chest. “Nope. You have to share, Ni. I agreed to come here, s’the least you can do.”

“But I thought you didn’t want any!” Niall protests, grabbing at Harry.

“I changed my mind!”

“Harry!”

Harry edges back, bumping into another body in the process. He jerks in surprise, having forgotten for a second that they already have people sitting beside them, and he immediately turns around to say sorry. Once his gaze lands on the person beside him, however, the apology dies in his throat.

The young man sitting beside him is not the same one who asked whether the seats were available, no. This man looks smaller and prettier, more delicate even, but at the same time he looks a bit rougher. The lines of his face are sharp, jaw scruffy and fringe messily swept across his forehead, and his hair’s a bit too long, curling at the back near the collar of his black tee, but it works for him. He’s also got blue eyes and a cute little nose, and Harry’s never really realized that he can find noses attractive until—

“Done staring, mate?” the stranger asks, and Harry blinks out of his thoughts, immediately blushing. He didn’t mean to stare, really, but.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, looking away awkwardly. When he hears Attractive Stranger laugh good-naturedly, however, he glances back just in time to see crinkly blue eyes directed at him.

“S’alright, mate,” Attractive Stranger says, grinning. “My name’s Louis.” Of course. Attractive Stranger just had to have an equally attractive name. Great. Harry can totally deal with that.

“I’m Harry,” he says when he realizes that Louis is waiting for him to say something.

Louis nods, as though he approves of Harry’s name, and Harry is secretly pleased, for some reason.

“So, who are you gonna cheer for tonight?” Louis asks, shifting on his seat and trying to get comfortable.

Harry bites on his bottom lip for a moment, before deciding to just tell the truth. No use in pretending he actually knows shit about basketball. “I have no idea to be honest,” he confesses, and then suddenly Niall is draping himself all over him, trying to reach for the chips which Harry is still clutching in one hand.

“Come on, Harry. Give ‘em,” the blond whines. They’re getting the attention of a few people now, and Harry ducks his head, elbowing Niall lightly in the gut.

“Okay, okay, fine. Here’s your bloody chips.”

Niall makes a pleased noise, takes the chips from Harry, and promptly introduces himself to Louis. “I’m Niall!”

Louis looks a bit amused, which is good. “Louis.”

“Nice to meet you, would you like some chips?”

Louis shakes his head a few times. “Nah, I’m good mate, thanks.”

Niall shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

“Why does he get chips?” Harry asks, frowning. “ _I’m_ your friend.”

“Shush,” is all Niall says, going back to his own seat.

“Louis?” a different voice says this time. The person sitting on Louis’ other side suddenly comes into view, and Harry blinks several times to make sure he’s seeing things right because there seems to be a Greek god sitting beside Louis. More specifically, a Greek god in a Marvel tee. This is getting a bit bizarre.

Louis turns towards said Greek god. “Yes darling?”

And Harry’s face drops a little at that—at _darling_ —because _oh no, they’re dating?_ That would make sense, actually—they’re both very attractive, and it’s normal for attractive people to date other attractive people, making those who are less fortunate in both the physical appearance and love life department feel extremely envious. The world is a cruel place sometimes.

“Who are you talking to?” Greek god asks, looking curiously at Harry. Harry doesn’t think he looks possessive, though, doesn’t look like he’s going to shoot Harry for talking to his boyfriend, so Harry guesses he’s still safe for now.

Still, he can’t help but feel that the universe is playing a joke on him.

Louis suddenly throws an arm around his shoulders, making Harry jump in his seat a little in surprise. “Just talking to Harry here,” the older man says, “and to Niall over there.”

Harry offers a smile while Niall enthusiastically waves.

“This is my best mate, Zayn,” Louis adds, patting Greek god whose name is Zayn on the cheek, and Harry perks up because _best mate_ , not _boyfriend_. Thank you, higher forces of the universe. “And that’s—wait, where’s Li?”

“Went to the toilets,” Zayn says. “He’ll be back in a bit.”

Just as Zayn finishes saying this, the man from earlier—Liam, Harry remembers—arrives. He sits down beside Zayn, who greets him with a small kiss on the lips, and Harry can feel himself smiling again because yes, no, not Louis’ boyfriend then. Awesome.

“Ah, yeah, that’s Liam,” Louis tells Harry and Niall. “See, this is why I don’t like going out with them. They always make me feel like the third wheel.”

Niall reaches over to pat Louis on the head in a half-arsed attempt at comfort, but Louis chuckles appreciatively at the gesture anyway. Harry opens his mouth to say something more to Louis, but then suddenly the crowd is screaming, and the announcer begins saying something, and the players come out into the court.

-

It’s not even halftime yet and Harry already wants to go home. He’s so confused about what’s going on, doesn’t even know which team he’s supposed to be supporting, and Niall isn’t being helpful at all because he just screams at everyone.

Harry slumps back against his seat and shakes his head, says, “I haven’t got a clue about what’s happening.”

“Same,” Louis says, and Harry turns to face him.

“What are you doing here, then?”

Louis shrugs. “Liam and Zayn forced me to come with them since we don’t really go out together anymore, but.” He jerks his thumb towards where Liam and Zayn are happily feeding each other nachos. “As you can see, it’s hard to get any trio quality time when your best mates are so ridiculously in love with each other. Don’t know why they even invited me in the first place.”

Harry grins. “Actually, I didn’t want to come here, either.”

“Oh?” Louis lifts an eyebrow, sneaking his arm across the backrest of Harry’s seat. “Then why are you here?”

“Niall said I needed to live my life,” Harry says, leaning back and letting Louis tug on the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I haven’t got a single clue about basketball, to be honest.”

Louis nods. “I’m more of a footie fan, myself. I also play a bit for my home team, actually.”

“That’s nice, mate,” Harry says sincerely, before biting on his lip, imagining Louis running around in football shirts, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat. It’s a really nice image.

“How old are you, by the way?” Louis asks, interrupting Harry’s thoughts.

Harry blinks a couple of times, clearing his head before answering Louis’ question. “I’m twenty,” he says, leaning closer towards Louis so that they can hear each other over the cheers of the crowd. “And you?”

“Twenty-two.”

Harry smiles, and he sees Louis’ gaze flicker towards his dimple, then his lips. He opens his mouth, about to say something cheeky, but then the buzzer signaling halftime sounds throughout the court. He winces a little at the sudden sound, covering his ears, and Louis pets at his hair comfortingly.

A cheesy love song then replaces the noise as players shuffle off to their benches, and Harry looks up, a bit confused. Niall cackles and points at the big screen above the court. “Hey! Hey! Look up there, Harry!”

Harry looks up, still a bit confused, and. Oh. _Oh_. Kiss cam.

So that’s an actual thing, then.

The first pair onscreen readily gives each other a quick kiss, earning a loud cheer from the crowd. Harry grins and claps along with everyone else—he’s always been a sappy romantic who loves showing affection, and seeing other people in love, or together at the very least, never fails to put a smile on his face even when he himself is painfully single at the moment. The camera moves on to two girls next, who giggle behind their hands for a second before shyly giving each other sweet pecks on the lips, making the crowd coo.

“I remember seeing this one video,” Louis suddenly says, and Harry turns to look at him, “where this guy was watching a game with his sister, and he had a sign prepared, so when the kiss cam turned to them he just lifted this piece of paper that said _she’s my sister_ and everyone laughed.” He chuckles. “That was pretty brilliant.”

Harry laughs too, about to make a comment, but then Niall is suddenly nudging him on the arm, saying something excitedly that Harry doesn’t quite catch. He turns to his best mate, frowning, but the blond only points up at the screen with a shit-eating grin on his face. Harry’s frown deepens.

Then he looks up, and. Oh. That’s him on the screen.

Specifically, him and Louis on the screen.

More specifically, him and Louis on kiss cam.

What.

“Well would you look at that,” Louis says, sounding half-surprised and half-amused.

Harry looks at the older man, bites his lip for a second. “Um,” he starts saying, blinking a couple of times. “Would you mind?”

The crowd is cheering them on, and Harry really hopes Louis would be cool with it because he’d very much like to kiss him. Instead of answering, though, Louis just shrugs and leans in, and then Harry’s eyes are slipping shut as a pair of lips presses against his.

He’s not really sure how long these kisses are supposed to last, but Louis’ lips feel nice and soft against his, so. He tilts his head a little to get a better angle, and then Louis leans in further, pressing their lips together a bit harder. Harry decides to tease a little, so he flicks his tongue out against Louis’ bottom lip, and he _swears_ it was just meant to be a joke, but then Louis is _actually_ parting his lips beneath Harry’s and inviting him to go further, and, well. Louis’ a really attractive guy who kisses well and Harry’s only human.

So they get lost in it for a moment, Louis letting Harry lick into his mouth before he’s assuming a bit of control and doing the same to Harry. Harry makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, tilting his head back a little so that Louis can lean in further and kiss him deeper. He’s got one hand fisting at the fabric of Louis’ tee, while the other is clutching onto Louis’ bicep, and wow, this feels really nice. Harry thinks he can keep on going for hours, just keep on kissing Louis like this, and he’d be perfectly content.

That is, until Niall whacks him on the back of the head, and Harry suddenly remembers where they are.

He pulls away from Louis, breathing heavily, and he’s pleased to see that Louis looks just as flushed as he feels. So it’s not just him, then. Good.

He grins cheekily, feeling just a tiny bit shy, and says, “Oops.”

Louis chuckles, shakes his head a few times as though he can’t believe what just happened, before he’s grinning as well. “Hi.”

The crowd is screaming at them, some even whistling, and Harry ducks his head to hide his smile. Niall pats him on the back, and Harry glances at Louis only to see the older man already looking at him with an interested glint in his blue eyes.

Okay. So maybe it’s the right choice to come to this game, after all.

-

They all swap numbers, the five of them, right after the match. Harry gives Louis another kiss before they part ways, but not before Niall asks, “Golf or basketball?”

“Basketball,” Liam answers immediately, to which Zayn agrees with a nod.

Harry pouts. “But golf is fun!” he protests, turning to Louis for help.

“Sorry babe,” Louis says, ruffling his hair and not sounding sorry at all. “But basketball is more tolerable than golf for me.” He winks. “And besides, I’m pretty sure they don’t have kiss cam in golf.”

Niall cackles madly while Harry pouts. “Looks like you lose, Harry. You’re gonna have to pay for next month’s rent.”

Harry crosses his arms against his chest and pouts, but in truth he doesn’t really feel all that bad because he has Louis’ number. On the contrary, he’s feeling pretty good.

He thinks Louis’ feeling pretty good, too, if the way he keeps on sneaking glances at Harry is anything to go by. And, well. Harry can totally live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [black-and-scarlet](http://black-and-scarlet.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ((also if you're a regular reader of mine I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT ON THE SUGARDADDY 'VERSE THERE'S GONNA BE A PART THREE I SWEAR but i just really prioritized my fic for the hlsummerfest (not allowed to talk about it soz babes) and it's gonna take a while still but don't give up on me okay loves i love you all))


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